


RvB Bingo Wars - Recovery Era

by IMAgentMI



Category: Red vs. Blue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-17
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-10-19 22:46:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10649628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IMAgentMI/pseuds/IMAgentMI
Summary: The Reds, the Blues and newly-adopted Agent Washington are all safely back in Valhalla.  However, someone has tracked them and is watching from afar.





	RvB Bingo Wars - Recovery Era

“No, that’s wrong, you’ve got it backwards.”

“No, see? If you hold it this way…”

The familiar sound of bickering echoed across to the Blue Team members as they drew closer to the Red base. Wash pushed forward at a jog, Caboose and Tucker followed close behind, all three heads swiveling back and forth across the canyon. Tucker actually turned, walking backwards part of the way, rifle half raised and sweeping nervously back and forth to cover behind them. Ahead, Grif and Simmons finally noticed them approaching. Simmons reached for his Magnum, but lowered his hand as Grif shook his head in exasperation. However, when he spoke, Grif’s voice was anything but friendly. “What do you idiots want?”

Wash ignored his tone. “Have either of you seen anything odd today?” Simmons snorted, but Wash cut through him. “I’m not fucking around - have you seen anything? Anyone? Did anything catch your eye, but when you looked closer, nothing was there?”

Grif stiffened in shock. “What, like the Meta? You think the Meta is here?” Behind him, Simmons whimpered.

Wash shook his head, pausing to look past the Red base before turning back to Grif. “No. Or, at least, I don’t think so.” Behind him, Caboose edged closer until he was nearly at Wash’s shoulder, staring back towards home. “Whatever it is, I don’t think it’s invisible. But it moves so fast, it might as well be - your eyes can’t follow it at all.”

“I think I saw it.”

Sarge stepped from the gloom of the interior of the base, pausing dramatically, sunlit in the doorway. Simmons gave a start of surprise.

“You did? Grif and I have been out here all morning and we haven’t seen anything.”

“You boys were on guard duty?”

“Yes!”

“Well, that explains it. You two are the worst guards in the history of this man’s military. I’d be a better lookout asleep in my bunk than the two of you ever are standing out here.” Sarge half turned in the doorway, yelled behind him. “Lopez!”

“¿Sí?”

“Did you see any movement out here in the canyon today?”

"¿Te refieres al Freelancer en camuflaje adaptativo? Sí, la vi, he estado esperando a ver si ella vendrá aquí y golpeará todos tus culos como la última vez".

“You disappoint me, Lopez. I thought you at least would be paying better attention than these two.” Sarge turned back to the Blues. “It’s not like Tex or the Meta, though. It’s not invisible - just blends in.”

“Like a chameleon?” The words came out of Wash slowly, as though he was reluctant to say them out loud.

“Sure, that’s one way to put it. Sound like a Freelancer whatsit to you?”

“Yes, it does. Shit!”

Tucker’s helmet inclined towards Wash. “But you said you didn’t think the Meta was still alive!”

“I don’t. But the Meta wasn’t the last Freelancer left alive. There were still others.”

“Who else?” Tucker’s voice was high with panic.

“Well, there was--”

“Me.” 

There was the sound of a woman’s voice, and a figure stepped around the side of the base, forest green armour dissolving into aqua. The Reds and Blues all stepped back, shouting and swearing, but Wash stood his ground and was already raising his rifle. “Freelancer!” he roared, and was answered by the sound of even more fervent swearing and guns lifted behind him. 

The fight was silent, but ferocious. The soldier in aqua armour closed the distance between them before Wash could bring the rifle fully to bear, knocking it to the side. Wash kept his grip on it, and using the motion from the soldier’s strike, brought the gun around in an arc like a club. The soldier ducked low, catching ahold of the gun with one hand, and Wash’s wrist in the other. One twist sent the gun tumbling down the slope of the hill, and in the same movement the soldier bent, and used Wash’s momentum to send him flipping over her shoulder. Wash twisted midair and hit the ground on his feet, already sprinting back to re-engage. 

They met in a fury of movement so fast it was almost impossible to follow, but it was all over in a matter of seconds. The aqua soldier blocked a punch from Wash, then stepped aside so quickly that his next met only air. Wash was off balance for only a fraction of a second, but it was all the soldier needed. The first blow sent Wash staggering sideways, the second bent him double, and the third would have laid him out, had the soldier not spun him on his knees, twisting his arm behind him, and ducking behind his back to snake an arm around his throat. The soldier bent Wash backwards to rest against her chest, to both support and subdue. They faced the Reds and Blues who now, to a man, all had their guns raised.

“Who are you?” Wash was wheezing, but his voice carried real venom. He struggled briefly, but the other soldier tightened her grip and he stilled again.

“You know who I am.”

“Bullshit. Carolina died. She died the day the Mother of Invention crashed. Who are you?”

“I didn’t die. But it was better for people to think that I had.”

“Bull. Shit.” Wash sounded calmer, but there was a brittleness in his voice. “South had a voice modulator. The Project had that technology. You could be anyone. Who are you?”

“Do you want me to prove it?”

“Even if you did, what good would that do me? What could you possibly be here for, except to kill me? The Director already tried. Are you here to finish the job?” Wash jerked his head, tried to wrench his shoulders away from his captor’s armour. 

“If I was here to kill you, do you think we’d be talking right now? You would be dead before you even knew I was here.”

“Then why are you here?”

“Alpha.”

Wash went perfectly still. “Alpha is dead. All the AI fragments were destroyed in an EMP blast.”

“Not all of them. I know you were there. I know that you helped Epsilon escape. I know that later you tracked him, you and…” The soldier’s voice faltered, but only for a moment. “I know that you know where he is now, and you’re going to take me t--”

Wash surged upwards so unexpectedly that he actually lifted the aqua soldier off her knees before she hauled him back down. There was a gunshot and turf exploded only a foot away from the Freelancers, yanking their attention back to the Reds and Blues, whom they had nearly forgotten. 

“Hold your fire!” Sarge bellowed, and Wash saw Simmons’ head duck in embarrassment, but Wash turned his attention right back to the soldier behind him.

“I would rather die than ever help you put Epsilon back in the Director’s hands again. There is nothing you could do to ma--”

“I am not going to give Epsilon to the Director.”

Wash’s head swung to the side, but the aqua soldier didn’t bother to rein him back in. “Then what--”

“We are going to kill the Director.”

For the second time, Wash went completely still. There was a moment of silence, and then the aqua soldier released her grip. Wash was up in an instant, swinging around to face his opponent, but he didn’t attack. The soldier got to her feet calmly, appearing completely at ease. Wash still held himself as though he still expected a fight, but his voice was quiet, almost a whisper. “Take off your helmet.”

With a deliberate slowness, the soldier removed her helmet and bright red hair spilled out. She held it two-handed in front of her, as though to keep both hands visible, to show she was no longer a threat. Wash’s breath came out in a rush, and after a moment, he removed his own helmet. Blue-grey eyes regarded green. 

“I thought you were dead. All this time. I heard you went over a cliff.”

Carolina’s mouth twisted wryly. “I carry a grappling gun. You of all people should remember this.”

Two bright spots appeared in Wash’s cheeks and he opened his mouth to respond.

“Uh, Wash?”

Wash gave a start at Tucker’s voice, turning back to the Reds and Blues, who still had their weapons at the ready. “Stand down.” When they hesitated, he let out a deep breath. “It’s okay. It was just a… misunderstanding.”

“A misunderstanding,” Grif repeated flatly, as the group lowered their guns.

“Yes.” Wash faced Carolina again, regarding her in silence another moment before replacing his helmet. “Okay. So when do we leave?” There was an uproar behind him, but he didn’t turn around.

“What do you mean, ‘leave’?” Tucker’s voice was nearly a shriek of indignation. “We just got back here, and you want us to leave again? No fucking way!”

“Why would we help you? Blue team problems aren’t our problems.” Sarge’s words were met with fervent approval from Grif and Simmons. 

“She tracked us down in less than a week. How much longer do you think it will be before the Chairman does? The Director? You want to be here when they come looking for me and the people who have been harbouring me?” As he spoke, Wash watched Carolina replace her helmet, then retrieve his rifle from further down the hill. She handed it to him without a word and disappeared again around the corner of the base.

“Wait just one damn minute here--”

“We’re going to rescue Church?” Caboose stepped forward, his voice soft and hopeful. Wash clapped a hand on his shoulder.

“Yeah, Caboose. We’re going to go rescue him right now.” Wash grinned widely in his helmet as he felt the other soldiers consider a future with a disappointed Caboose.

There was a beat of silence and then--

“Fuck!” Grif threw his hands up, paced back and forth in a burst of frustration, then buried his face in his hands. “Fuck!”

“We’re going to do this, aren’t we?” Simmons asked leadenly. Sarge rumbled a sullen wordless reply. 

“We’re going to rescue Church! We’re going to rescue Church! C’mon Tucker, let’s go back to our base and pack…” Caboose took Tucker by the arm to lead him away.

“Church?” Carolina appeared back around the corner, carrying a rucksack. Her voice was sharp, aggressive in a way it hadn’t sounded before. “What did you say?” His teammates froze, and Wash saw Caboose look from him to Carolina and back in desperation.

“Caboose calls Epsilon, ‘Church’ - it was the name the Alpha had while he was stationed with the Blue Team in Blood Gulch. Caboose finds it easier to just keep using the same name,” explained Agent “Church” Washington, “and it’s easier for us just to let him.”

Carolina stared at the group and a different kind of silence fell between them. Just as the other soldiers began to shift uneasily, she finally turned and walked off, heading for the nearest Warthog. The Red’s watched her warily before peeling off one by one, heading into their base to pack, Grif still swearing under his breath with feeling. Caboose kept hauling on Tucker’s arm until he got him turned around and finally moving back toward home. 

Wash stood a moment longer, feeling himself pulled in two different ways at once until he finally jogged after Carolina. She had set her rucksack on the passenger seat of the Warthog and was rummaging through it. She glanced up at him for a moment and continued her search. “I only came here for you. I don’t need them.” 

“Well, you’ve got them now. They come with me, all of them.”

“You found yourself a new team then?” Wash could hear the acid in her words, the bitterness in the way she spit them out.

“No,” he said quietly, “they found me.”

Carolina snorted and closed her bag without finding whatever she’d been looking for. “Go get your things, Washington. We leave in fifteen minutes. Anyone who isn’t ready will be left behind.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t want that to happen again.” He grabbed the strap of his rifle, yanking on it to position the gun more comfortably on his back and began to walk away.

“Wash.”

He paused, turned at his name spoken so softly, but she didn’t speak further, just stood there with her back to him. She offered no apology, and neither did he. Finally, he walked off, following the figures of Tucker and Caboose as they passed through the Blue base doorway and out of sight. He picked up his pace. There was a lot to get done.

He was ready in fourteen minutes.


End file.
